


Matched

by GHBookfreak



Category: Original Work
Genre: M/M, Matched Trilogy - Ally Condie - Freeform, Shatter Me Series - Tahereh Mafi - Freeform, The Selection Series - Kiera Cass - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-12
Updated: 2019-01-28
Packaged: 2019-03-04 01:03:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13353231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GHBookfreak/pseuds/GHBookfreak
Summary: I live in a system where everything is planned out for you.Your whole life is planned out. Your job, your family, your love life... everything.I live in a very poor family and in a few days, it is matching day again. Everyone that is older then 17 gets a number that day, the number of your 'soulmate', chosen by a computer.I don't agree, I won't let a computer or a system control my life.I can make my own decisions.I can and I will.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> I got the idea while reading Matched by Ally Condie though it's not really a fanfic about it.  
> It's more like a similar universe but with different characters. There are also influences from The Selection (by Kiera Cass) and Shatter Me Series (by Tahereh Mafi).

I live in a system where everything is planned out for you.

Your whole life is planned out. Your job, your family, your love life... everything.

I come from a very poor family and in a few days, it is matching day again. Everyone that is older then 17 gets a number that day, the number of your 'soulmate', chosen by a computer.

I don't agree, I won't let a computer or a system control my life. 

I can make my own decisions.

I can and I will.

\-----

My family and I walk toward the matching building. My parents wanted to come with me as far as they could because they knew I how much loathed this day. They are here to prevent me from making a fatal mistake. To prevent me from standing up for myself as an individual and not just as a number in their system. To prevent me from demanding to make my own divisions and not just follow a simulation made by a computer. They want to protect me from myself against the system.

We walk to the gate with the number seven on it. It's the most dilapidated on the square in front of the matching building. We are the poorest of the system so we got the worst gate, fair isn't it?

Yes, indeed. I was 'lucky' to be born in the seventh caste, the lowest of them all. After the Great War, the leaders of our new system divided us into seven different castes and gave every caste a specific task. In the beginning, it was fair, I guess. It was a great plan to rebuild our world but afterwards, the leaders didn't want to lose their power so the caste system was here to stay. Now for almost a century. They even created an eighth cast for themselves, cast zero.

"Honey, we can't go any further," my mom says, breaking my flow of thoughts. I look at her and it's almost like looking in a mirror. I look almost exactly like my mom, except for my eyes; they're my fathers. My mom is what they used to call an Asian or Japanese. Now everybody is the same race because there are no countries anymore, no boundaries. Everybody is the same. My mom has dark brown eyes, straight black hair and is 5'1. She's the one responsible for my small height of 5'4. All the other boys my age are at least 5'8, at least! I also got a lot of my mom's figures, they give me a quite feminine look. People always made fun of my ass as well. They say it is too round for a guys ass. Sometimes I wish I was more like my dad. Only having his eye colour isn't enough for me. My father is 6'2 and is quite muscular. He has brown hair and electric blue eyes. I do quite like those eyes, my eyes. Every time someone said something about my figures or my smaller frame, I give them a death glare with them and it always shuts them up. Ha, serves them right!

"Son, don't ignore your mother like that," this time my father get me out of my thoughts with his low, deep voice. Another thing I wish I had instead of my high voice.

I sigh, "Sorry mom, dad. I was just lost in my thoughts. I don't wanna be here."

"We know Alexander but we can't change the rules, we just need to follow them," my mom tries to appease me and pulls me in for a hug. I hug her back because I really need the comfort right now.

"Alex, I know you'll get a nice and sweet girl," my father assures me. If he only knew I was gay. And even if I got myself a girl, which I hope not, I would feel guilty because I'm only a seven for her and she would deserve better.

"Thanks, dad," I try to thank him with a convincing smile. I say my goodbyes and walk through the gate. The gate of my personal hell.


	2. Goodbye High School

And just another boring day at school.

What else is there is life?

Nothing! I tell you.

All these wonderfully inspiring thoughts circle around inside my head as I make my way home. 

Thank whoever that it's the last week of school before I'll graduate. I couldn't handle another year. 'Cause, honestly, life in high school is the worst especially when you're the kid everybody likes to pick on.

Why me, you ask? Well, easy. They're all jealous of my drop dead gorgeous looks, that's why.

Ok, maybe that's not exactly the reason. It's not because of my poor status as a Seven since the castes in our system don't mix; not on the playground, not in school, not on the work floor. The only time when there can be a mixing of classes is during the matching ceremony, which is in two weeks time from now on. This is something I'm freaking nervous about since it is possible that I'll find get to meet my one and only.

I feel the nerves creeping up on me and a shiver runs down my spine. I quickly shake my head and try distraction myself by analysing and deducting why my wonderful classmates could hate me so much.

It's not because they know I'm into guys since nobody knows I'm gay. I haven't even come out to my parents yet.

If it's not my dashing good looks, neither my status nor my sexual orientation there is only one other reason why they could dislike me so much.

It must be because, although I'm handsome — and yes, I do say so myself otherwise only my mother does and she's prejudiced — I'm quite small and have rather feminine looks for a guy my age.

Through my years of high school, I saw my fellow male students get their growth spurts, saw them getting stubbles and heard their voice descending an octave or so. While little me stayed little, didn't grow facial hear and still have a voice that's more likely to belong to a twelve-year-old boy than an eighteen-year-old adolescent. Yeah, I don't really consider myself an adult yet since I don't act like it yet. Heck, knowing myself I probably never will.

But anyway, that's why when I walk through the hallway I'm followed by gossip and giggles.

Most of the time I can shut up the laughter by giving them one of my famous death glares. Man, I just love my eyes because of it. I have electric blue eyes, just like my father, and I'm told that when I glare it seems like they're spitting icy fire. That, ladies and gentlemen, is why my eyes are my best feature.

Though I must admit it's probably also the reason why I have no friends. Everybody who even thinks about moving closer to me gets one of my death glares. What can I say? After so many years of disappointment, I gave up hope for mankind and became paranoia. The only people I trust and that are close to me are my parents.

Sad but that's my reality and I like it that way so you better deal with it.

"Mom, I'm home," I announce loudly as I enter our small apartment.

"Hey, sweetie. How was school? Did you learn something new today?" she asks, her voice coming from where our kitchen is.

I take off my shoes and leave them in a cupboard next to the door.

"It was the same as always and not really," I answer as I make my way towards the kitchen.

My mother gives me a pointing look and I smile, "Ok, I did learn new stuff but nothing that I can actually use in real life."

"You never know what you're going to do. Maybe you will need it one day."

"It's not like I get to choose what I'm going to do for the rest of my life anyway," I mumble and look away. My parents are always, 'just go with the flow and do what you're expected to do since you don't want to get into trouble with the authorities'. I don't agree with this.

"What did you say, sweetheart? I didn't quite catch it," mother looks up from cutting up veggies.

"Nothing. I just asked if I could help you with something."

"Thank you, sweetie, but it's nothing I can't handle. Why don't you go to the table and do your homework? I'll call you when dinner is almost ready and then you can help me with putting the table."

After my assignment for my class of Art History, I start on my task for creative writing. I sigh because my nerves for what's coming in these next two weeks make me inspirationless. I study the arts because that's what the system told my parents I would excel at. And it's true, I love music, architecture, literature and visual arts. But next week it's going to choose my life partner. What if it chooses wrong?

I'm pulled out of the gutter that is called my thoughts when my mother asks me to set the table since my father is almost home and dinner will be ready when he is.

As I put the last plate on the table I hear the door close and see my father walking in with a smile on his face like always.

"I'm home," he announces before walking to mama and perking her on the lips. "It smells good in here, love."

It smells in here like cabbages. Just like it does every day 'cause that's what we eat every day: cabbages and potato soup.

We all take place at the table.

"Itadakimasu," we say in union before we start eating.

"So, you're ready for real life, son?" father asks me. "This weekend is graduation and next Wednesday is your first Matching ceremony."

"Ugh, please don't remind me of that. I'm having nightmares about it already as it is," I grown.

"Don't you want to find your soul mate?" mother frowns.

"Mama, of course, I do," my voice bearly louder than a whisper.

"Don't you want to be happy like your mother and I are together? And then afterwards, start your own little family?" father asks like he didn't hear me.

"I do, papa. I'm just nervous. I'd like to choose for myself better. What if I get matched to a horrible person?" What if I get matched to go a girl?

"Don't worry," mother huggs me warmly. "The system never makes mistakes."

Oh, I so wish it doesn't start making them with me.


	3. The Matching

"Name please," the computer asked when it was my turn to scan my bracelet. I scan it and all my information comes on the screen. "Welcome, Alexander Himuro. Thank you for signing in. Please take a seat in the male department and wait till the matching ceremony begins." 

I sigh and take a seat in the rusty chairs. I look around and inspect all the other guys in the waiting room who have already signed in. Everybody dressed up for the ceremony. Well, as much as we Sevens can dress up of course. Compared to the first caste, we look like scum.

Lots of them are nervous, you can easily tell. But who wouldn't be in this kind of situation? 

I didn't notice a guy taking place next to me until he spoke up.

"Hey, dude. My name is Adam Smith. It's your first time isn't it?" the guys asks with a smile. I turn towards him. Adam has kind brown eyes and light brown hair. The thing that surprises me the most is that he looks older than most of us.

"Oh," is all the shy little me can bring out.

"Yeah, I can tell. It's my twelfth time already, so don't be afraid. There is a lot of chance you don't get picked today. Most guys have to come back like, three, four, sometimes even five times before they get matched. And believe me, after a few times you get used to it."

I just nod. I'm not good with strangers but Adam doesn't seem to mind my lack of response. He just continues talking about his family, his dream girl, his future life,... He doesn't stop until the doors to the ceremony room open. 

"Come on, fast. We Sevens need to fight for a good spot," Adam says while he pulls me out of my seat and with him to the ceremony room. 

The room is huge. In front, there is a big screen for, so you can see the person you get matched to. Right in front of the screen, you have the Ones. Up to the fourth caste, they got chairs, Five and higher need to stand. The higher the number, the further to the back. The last ones to enter are the Nines.

It looks like the Ones got really nice seats and even got butlers to serve them and bring them food and drinks. Do they think this is some kind of amusing show? Ugh, One's disgust me. There are so many things I'd like to say to them — to tell them how much I criticise them — but I don't. I don't because I don't want to disappear and I don't want my family to get into trouble. So I keep my mouth shut. I keep silent and just follow the system like everybody else does. 

My thoughts are interrupted when the music starts to play and the screen lights up. The whole room turns quiet, everybody's full attention towards the screen. 

Our 'president' — or like I like to call him, our 'dictator' — comes into the picture. We don't see him live because he lives where the UK used to be — now known as Sector 3 — and we are living in what used to be Alaska — now known as Sector 40. He rules our whole lives and still, we never get to see him in real life. Not even once! We're just not good enough to him.

On the screen, there is a man who in his early 50s. He looks really good for his age, you wouldn't give him 45. He has salt and pepper hair and it's clear he works out a lot. Although he looks really handsome, looks are deceiving. He's a cruel man who knows no mercy. And he goes by the name Alastair Griffiths.

"Welcome. For some it's a pleasure to greet you here again, for others it's my honour to welcome you to the Matching ceremony for the first time. I'm glad to see so many of you have, again, gathered here for the feastful event."

Yeah, right. Like we actually have a choose. It's or coming or getting executed

"Let's not keep everyone waiting in anticipation but start the ceremony," Griffiths says before he disappears from the screen.

The ceremony begins. First, of course, are the One's who get their turn. If their name is called they stand up so they're visible for the camera's and we see them on screen. After a few seconds, the screen changes to somebody else — their Match. They leave the room afterwards. 

Sometimes someone of a lower cast than the attending cast is called to stand up or come forward to the little platform — from the Fifth cast they need to stand so they have a little platform to distinguish yourself from the others and to make yourself visible for the camera's — is because they are Matched to a higher class. Those are the ones who everybody considers lucky.

Not all of the One's are called since not all of them have got a Match yet. Once all the One's who have a Match are called, the others are allowed to leave again and they start with Matching the Two's and so on.

When it's out turn — the turn of the Sevens — everybody around me shifts nervously from leg to leg. Girls flattening their hair even more and guys straightening their clothes.

"Roger, Peter," a voice calls and a slender man with brown hear walks forward. He takes place on the platform and we see him on the screen before a small blond girl with brown eyes appears on the screen.

She looks kind of cute I guess. Roger seems to be pretty happy with her since he's smiling like he just won an important contest. 

The screen turns black again and Roger is lead away to make place for the next 'lucky' person.

"Willson, Steve," is called next, after him there follows Juliet Gray, Luke McDonald, Emma Waterson,  Evan Swan and William Johnson before Adams name is called.

Adam seems to glow. He quickly straights his clothes and puts a hand through his hair.

"Good luck," I encourage him. He smiles back to me and nods before he walks to the platform. 

While he's standing on the platform he shines and seems to radiate glee. Even though I can't agree with the way things go I can't stop myself from feeling happy for him to be finally getting his Match. He deserves a good and kind person.

The screen changes and shows a red-haired girl with gleaming sea-blue eyes. She has a heart-shaped face and ivory skin. She's pretty, to say the least. But above all, she looks kind and that's what Adam deserves.

After Adam, there were about ten others who were called before we are allowed to leave the ceremony room and are lead to a different room.

"Why are we supposed to stay here? Last time they let us leave immediately," somebody asks. Someone who clearly did this before.

"This ceremony is special," is all the guard says before ignoring us again.

We all stand in the room, waiting impatiently for what is to come next. After what seemed like an hour, we are lead back to the ceremony hall.

I look around and see that all the Matched and un-Matched people are back since I see Adam from afar.

The screen in the front light up and shows Alastair Griffiths again.

"I'm sure you're all wondering why you were called back. It's because I'm delighted to tell you that one Match hasn't been called yet. Would Alexander Himuro people step forward," he says.

I look around me to see who's stepping forward until I realise that it was my name being called. I'm too shocked to walk or even move.

Why would they do this? Why me?

"Alexander Himuro," I hear my name again through the speakers.

I slowly make my way to the platform and turn back to the screen now seeing my own face on it. After a few seconds, it turns black before it lights up again — showing Jasper Griffiths.

I'm Matched to a Zero and not just any Zero. It's Jasper Angus Griffiths, son of Alastair Griffiths.

I feel like fainting right now.


	4. Hate at first sight

I'm nervously sitting in a chair, concentrating on how to breathe in and out. How come it's so much harder to do so than normally? Right, it's because I got Matched and now I'm about to meet my match.

After the ceremony, I didn't have time to pack my stuff nor was I given time to say my goodbye's to my parents. Immediately, I was led away from the ceremony hall right to the airport where a private jet was waiting for me.

And now here I am. All alone and lost. God knows where!

I'm waiting in this big, round entrance hall with lots of white doors, a white marble staircase at the opposite side of the door I entered from and a big, golden, shiny and glittery chandelier in the middle.

I hate rich people.

I'm lost in my thoughts and clearly am not paying attention to my surroundings anymore when the doors on my left open. I give a little squeak out of surprise. Three tall and elegant-looking women entered. I quickly look down so they can't see my blush spreading across my cheeks. Unfortunately, that didn't go according to plan since one of them came closer and took my face in one of her hands and made me look up again so they could inspect me.

"Not too bad looking," the one on the left comments in a manner you'd talk about a broken plate or something; bored and uninterested.

"Cute reactions," the one on the rights says in the same way as the first lady did.

"But he's still way too dirty. He can't meet the Master like that," the middle one, the one who is still holding my face, mumbled just loud enough for the others to hear before letting go of me.

"I can hear you, you know," I grumble.

"And no manners whatsoever," she continues like I haven't said a thing.

"I have," I snap, "I just see no reason to use them."

"Feisty," the left one sniggers. "Master sure will like him."

"I don't have a master!"

"We all have a master," the middle one grabs my chin firmly, "You better remember that if you want to survive this house."

I feel a chill running down my spine but try not to show how intimidated I am. This is clearly not a please for weaklings.

"Follow me," the middle one says and leads the way, the other two following close behind us.

We walk through, what seems like, an endless corridor. Just like the entrance hall, there are white marble floors, white walls with white doors and golden chandeliers. It's all so white it almost burns my eyes.

"What are your names?" I dare to ask after a long awkward silence.

"My name is Sylvia," the woman who's walking in front of me answers. "The redhead is Shikin and the oriental one is Najwa."

It is only when Sylvia describes the other two that I start to pay attention to what they look like.

Sylvia herself is a tall woman of coloured skin complexion. Afro-American is what they used to call it if I'm correct. When I think about her eyes, it's not difficult to recall them in my memory since all three of them have unsettling eyes. When I looked into Sylvia's eyes, it was like looking into an ice fire. Their colour was so blue and cold but it seemed like there was something burning behind it.

I shifted my focus to the women who were walking behind me. Shikin was the shortest of the three but she was still taller than most women. She had red hair. Not the colour I came to expect from redheads since I only ever saw girls with strawberry blond or ginger hair. It was ruby red, almost like red wine. But her most striking feature where again the eyes. Shikin's eyes where white-silver, a colour I've never seen before on a human. The look in her eyes was extremely unnerving. It was as if she had the eyes of a dead person. Because of this look in her eyes, she reminded me of the sharks I saw at the aquarium I once visited with my parents.

And last but not least, there was Najwa. Her legs are so long it almost seems like she's not in proportion anymore. Her breasts are larger than average and she has the idealised hourglass figure. Najwa had indeed an oriental kind of vibe around her with her dark brown hair, her bronze skin and her almost black eyes that seemed to suck you in. But out of all the three ladies, she looks the kindest.

"We've arrived," Sylvia says and opens a white door on the left side of the corridor.

"Where exactly have we arrived?" I ask scared, though I hope they didn't notice my voice trembling.

"At the wellness," Najwa says and gives me a little push on my back to encourage me to enter.

A wellness? I've never been to a wellness before, that was something for the rich people only.

When all four of us have entered, Shikin closes the door before the three of them start staring at me. This time is different though from the first time. Now, they're not inspecting me but they seem to be waiting for me to do something.

"Well, go on then," Sylvia exclaims impatiently, "Start undressing! We don't have all day."

"We need to get you ready so you can go and meet the master," Shikin continues.

"Uhm, can you turn around please?" I ask when the women just keep staring at me.

"Isn't he just the cutest?," Najwa chuckles.

"Sweetheart, there is nothing you poses that we haven't seen yet. We've seen it all," Sylvia says, "Besides, privacy doesn't exist in this house. Nothing happens without the master knowing about it."

"Now, just undress so we can get started," Shikin smiles. 

She's even creepier when she smiles since her dead eyes come to life, just like a shark who has smelled blood.

I turn away from them and start undressing. This gesture seems to make Najwa chuckle again for some reason. When I'm in my briefs, I turn around whit my head as red as a tomato.

"Those undies too," Sylvia says. It's obvious those three are enjoying my discomfort.

I get rid of my underwear and try to cover my stuff as well as I can with my hands.

"The master is sure going to like him," Najwa is now laughing full out.

Bitch.

"What shall we do first?" Sylvia asks, obviously rhetorically. "The scrubbing or the waxing?"

"Waxing?" I repeat chocked.

"Yes," Shikin's gives me that creepy smile again, "The master requested a full body wax. So also down there."

"You're not doing that," I shake my head. "I refuse."

"You don't really have a say in that matter. What the master says goes," Sylvia says with a stern face.

"Now, you can be nice and go lie on that bed over there, or you can choose to resist and make us force you," Shikin's smile keeps growing. "Personally, I prefer you'd take the last option."

"Or do you first request something else?" Najwa asks.

"I'm going to need ice to put on my balls afterwards and at least a few drinks to numb the pain."

"We'll first start with the scrubbing, so the alcohol can start working."


	5. Alastair Griffiths

"Et voila, you're clean and perfectly hairless," Sylvia announces.

"Just how the master likes it," Shikin says while her eyes are roaming my body and admiring their work.

I feel violated.

"It's like my whole body is on fire," I grind through my teeth.

"The first time is always the most painful," Najwa smiles. "You'll get used to it."

"Now, get dressed," Sylvia instructs. "The master is not someone who likes to be kept waiting."

"Yes, and since he's been waiting to find his match for so long I can imagine him being impatient even more than usual," Najwa adds.

I move as slowly as possible because that's when the pain is the least.

"Are you doing that on purpose?" Shikin asks and narrows her creepy white-silver eyes. "We just told you to hurry up and you're being slow just to annoy us and infuriate the master."

"No, I'm not doing it on purpose," I snap on a tempo like I'm talking to a small child. "It just hurts less like this."

"We couldn't care less if it hurts you less," Shikin steps closer in an attempt to intimidate me. And I'm ashamed to admit she's succeeding though I hope it doesn't show on my facial expressions.

I'm fortunately saved by a knock on the door.

A low man's voice speaks from the other side of the door, "Master Griffiths is waiting in the blue room."

After those words, the whole atmosphere of the room changes. The three lady's eyes widen and I'm frozen out of fear. It's like I just had a bucket of ice water thrown over my burning skin. The realness of this moment really starts to sink in. This is the moment I'll meet my match. This isn't a dream, this is real.

"Hurry and put on those clothes," Sylvia hisses and starts to shove my arms through the sleeves of my new dress-shirt.

While Najwa finishes tying my tie, Shikin nervously opens the door a bit too forceful and the door fits the wall with a bang. That really wakes me up from my daze.

I'm not ready for this. I will never be ready for this moment. But there is nobody to come and save me. There is no knight who will storm in here and take me away from here since my so-called knight is the one I need to meet.

Again I'm lead through these too white hallways until we stop at a golden double door.

"Knock and wait till you get called inside. Only speak when spoken too and always do so very politely," Sylvia instructs while getting rid of imaginary wrinkles in my suit. "Okay, good luck. We'll be waiting for you here."

It's unnerving to see the three of them so nervous, almost like they're scared.

I swallow because of my dry through, I get rid of my sweating hands by wiping them on my new tailored paint and know on the door with shaking hands.

"Enter," I hear a voice on the other side say.

I swallow again before carefully opening the door.

It's dark inside. The walls seem to be an indigo blue while the furniture is in white and silver tones. The lights are dimmed but I immediately find Jasper Griffiths standing by the window with his back turned to me.

For somebody who claimed to have waited so long to see me, he did like to torture himself by denying to look at me.

"Close the door," Griffiths without turning around.

I follow the women's instructions and do as I am told.

"Come closer and take a seat."

Again I do as I'm told. It's only when I get closer, that I see stripes of grey in his hair and I realise this isn't Jasper Griffiths but his father Alastair Griffiths. Now I get why the three of them were so nervous. This is the man who decides who lives and who dies in this world. He makes people disappear and afterwards, nobody dares to even pronounce their names out loud anymore.

It's only when I reach the chair he turns around.

"You're even shorter in real life than you looked on screen," is all he says.

I freeze and glare at him. It doesn't matter who you are, you don't mock my height.

"Sit," he yells.

That wakes me up and brings me back to reality. This man can get me killed with a snap of his fingers.

"I suspect you get why we chose you for my son?" Griffiths asks.

I shake my head.

"Answer when somebody asks you a question," Griffiths barks.

"No, sir," I comply quickly.

"At least you have some manners even though you come from the gutter. Well, back to the matter of interest. There are some revolts so I decided to get somebody of bad breeding to be a match for my successor. Plus this would be a gay marriage, that always brings sympathy to the people. I believe this will calm down the uproar. You still following?"

"I do, sir," I replay through gritted teeth. This man is insulting me and my family and there is nothing I can do about it if I want to stay alive.

"The reason I called you here is to remind you that you are replaceable. To me and therefore to the system. Do something foolish and I'll make you disappear. Nobody will even remember your name. You understand?"

"Yes, I understand, sir."

"Good to know we're on the same page. Oh, and one last thing. My son doesn't know I manipulated the outcome of his match. I'd like to keep it that way. The two of us are the only two who know about this, the others have been taken care of, so I don't have to do a lot of deduction to get to a conclusion to the source if he happens to find out.

"I'll keep it quiet, sir."

He just nods, "You can leave now."

I get up and walk with shaking legs to the door. When I'm about to open the door, Griffiths gives me some last words to say me goodbye.

"I'm always watching you. I expect you to be the public's, gay media darling. One wrong move and you're done. Now go to my son and make him happy by keeping up the illusion."

That's when the numbing feeling starts to wear off and my anger starts to boil. He wants me out of the closet? Oh, he's going to regret getting me out of Narnia.

"Of course, sir," I answer with an obedient smile and bow to him slightly before opening the door and leaving.


	6. Meeting My One and Only

Who does he think he is? Just because he rules and controls our entire planet doesn't mean he gets to do whatever the hell he wants. Alastair Griffiths needs someone to beat him at his own game and I'm gladly taking the challenge on if nobody else feels called to do so.

"Are you ok, sweety?" Najwa asks and at the same time, she brings me back to this earth.

"Yes, thank you," I answer, proud of myself that I managed to get that out with a steady voice. My legs are still shaking and my spine is still shivering from the stressful five minutes that I had. 

"Good," Sylvia nods, "Then we are now able to lead you to the young Master. We must not keep him waiting for any longer since he waited for this moment for as long as I can remember."

Again the three of them lead me through a maze of wide, white corridors. And again I'm unable to remember the way.

"Act natural but don't be yourself too much," Shikin advises me though I think it was just her finding another way to insult me. "You are too ill-mannered and ill-bred for that. Not that the Master will expect something else from somebody with your background, but at least try to make an as good as possible impression on him. As Sylvia said, Master Jasper waited for this moment for a long time and since he is utterly romantic he will forgive some things but he's not blind. It's idiotic when people say love makes blind since it doesn't and certainly not our Master. His education was really high standard, as is expected from his lineage －"

"I think the Master is going to adore him," Najwa interrupts Shikin's flow of words. I silently thank her for it.

"I agree, the Master will like his feminine frame and cute face just as much as he will like his feisty attitude."

"Can the three of you please stop talking about me as if I'm right here where I can hear you," I plea.

"Oh, nice face," Sylvia comments. "I'm sure the Master will like your begging-face as well."

"Gee, that really makes me feel better," the sarcasm dripping off my words.

"Store away that attitude. We're here," Shikin sneers.

"And where exactly is here if I may ask?"

"The young Master's room," Shikin narrows her eyes at me.

I roll mine in response. Like I couldn't conclude that myself. I just wanted a more specific description of this rooms position in this giant mansion.

When Najwa puts her hand on the door handle, my palms start sweating like crazy. This is it. This is where I meet him. My one and only. Chosen by a computer. My perfect match.

"I'm not ready," I blurt out.

The three of them look at me confused and surprised; confused about what I said and surprised about my timing or the fact that I finally dared to say what I've been feeling this whole time.

"You'll be fine," Sylvia is the first one who regains her posture and tries to reassure me though I can tell her heart is not in the right place for this one. "Our Master is very kind and, as we said, he will like your appearance and your character. You got nothing to worry about."

Before I can start to protest Najwa betrays me and opens the door. Shikin pushes me inside, a little more forceful than needed, and I stumble inside the room. While I try my best not to fall face-down on the floor, the door behind me closes. It's only when my face hits something hard that I notice the arms around my shoulders － the same arms that, apparently, stopped me from falling. The surface is hard but soft at the same time. Hard because of the obvious muscles I can feel through the fabric and soft because of the way I'm heald.

I hear a sniffing sound.

"You have no idea how long I've been waiting to hold you," the surface rumbles, a sexy baritone voice speaking.

Man, that voice makes my knees go weak. But, wait, was this guy sniffing me earlier? Creep.

The hands on my shoulders push me away from the solid surface without letting me go. I look up at the hands and follow them towards arms, then shoulds, neck and finally the same face that showed on the screen during my matching: Jasper Angus Griffiths. Even more handsome than on tv.

Gosh! With a face like that, he can be the father of my babies.

Wait － what am I even thinking?!

"How can you be happy? This situation is fucked up! We never even met before and now we're supposed to be partners for life," I cry out. All the stress is finally getting to me and it needs a way out. Poor Jasper just happens to be the receiving end of my rage at this moment.

"Happiness does not depend on outward things, but on the way we see them," Jasper smiles. "And when I look at you, there is nothing more I require."

"Are you seriously quoting Leo Tolstoy?" I ask in disbelieve.

"Beautiful and smart," he sighs blissfully. "The fates have blessed me."

"You're weird."

"And you're amazing."

"Ok, you can stop being so cheesy now," I'm really starting to feel uncomfortable. He keeps looking at me with these lovestruck eyes.

Jasper looks hurt at my comment and lets me go. The look on his face makes me feel like I just hit a puppy. I shake off the feeling by reminding me who this man and, most importantly, his father are.

Jasper turns away and heads towards a round table in the middle of the room.

I sneak a peak and admire his features. He looks like a hotter, younger version of his father. Broad shoulders, but not too broad, clear muscles but not the bodybuilder kind of type, long legs and then his face... Cheekbones that could cut through butter, dark brown, curly hair, a cute, straight nose and, the cherry on top of the cake, deep sea-blue eyes. He is absolutely gorging. How is this man even mine?

It is only after an eternity that I realise I can see his eyes because he is staring into mine. I blush like the tomato I am and turn away.

Jasper chuckles softly, the a-hole. Though his laugh is so musically and the sound pleases my ears.

"You're so cute," Jasper says and walks back over to me. He takes my head into his hands and turns it up so he can rest his forehead against mine while looking into my eyes.

I feel my knees getting weak again and the only thing I can think of is how fucked I am.


End file.
